At last, he had met a woman who would match his needs.
Finally, a woman who had captured his heart.
…
Phillipa snuggled into the warmth of Anthony’s embrace, unable to move. He drew the coverlet over them when she shivered. The silence between them was comfortable, and she smiled in the darkness, filled with contentment. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he said, and they both laughed softly.
He pressed another kiss at her nape. “Are you ready to talk about it? About this secret you hold so close?”
His calm question surprised her, but didn’t upset her. If he had demanded or berated, she would have retreated behind her usual wall of doubt. But his air of relaxed curiosity made her want to answer. She wanted no more secrets between them.
“I had a lover in Boston,” she said softly. “We were childhood friends, and the older I grew the more curious I became about everything. Especially between men and women.” She turned into Anthony’s arms, needing to see his face. He shifted so he sprawled on his back. She did not resist the arms that drew her down, so that she lay in the crook of his embrace.
“We were best of friends, more than anything else. He introduced me to small adventures. He taught me how to swim in the lakes that I’d been forbidden from, how to ride astride. We were so close it grew into more than friendship. We shared our first kiss together, then more, and eventually our explorations led to us making love.”
She inhaled. Brandon had been her first in everything. First bloom of love, first tentative kiss, and when she discovered her parents intended to uproot her from her known world to move to London, she gave herself to him. It had been sweet, painful, a little messy, and very poignant.
“It was more out of defiance than real love, hoping that my parents would leave me behind to wed him. Brandon and I made grand plans together of where we would travel and what we’d explore. They were more my dreams than his. He knew I wanted to see the world, so he urged me to go with my parents, promising to follow by my twenty-first birthday.”
“What happened on your twenty-first birthday?”
“Nothing yet. I’m still only twenty. When I turn twenty-one, I will claim the inheritance my grandmother left me. I planned that we would use it to tour the continents.” She twined her fingers through Anthony’s. The slow, steady beat of his pulse reassured her.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“My family made me feel so ashamed. I endured Papa slapping me, calling me a harlot, and my mother’s wrenching sobs. Mama drew the curtains as if there had been a death in our family, and all she spoke about was the shame. Never mind that the person who had seen us together was Mama herself.”
Anthony’s hand rubbed her shoulders soothingly.
“By the time we reached London, I felt suffocated under their guilt and expectations. All I heard was how I’d ruined myself and my chances of ever being loved. My aunt tried to arrange a suitable match for my hand. She introduced me to Lord Orwell.”
Anthony’s muscles tensed. “I assume he presented himself as charming, elegant, wealthy, and everything a young lady ought to dream of in a husband,” he drawled.
“Indeed. And my aunt kept singing his praises. I admitted that I found him likable. I attended the opera with him, took early morning rides, and even went on several picnics. My father invested heavily in several of his ventures, to strengthen the connection. After two months of courtship, Orwell made an offer for my hand.”
“Even though I had a desperate desire to travel, I was tempted. But I found it distressing to accept a man’s proposal, knowing I’d already had a lover. Believing him to be a gentleman, someone I could trust, I confided in him. I told him about Brandon.” She cringed, remembering his violent reaction. His hands around her throat and his cruel taunts.
Anthony made a growling noise. “I can only imagine his anger.”
“He turned ugly. I instantly ceased to be a lady to him. I realized then that everyone would feel the same way. My own family insisted I was impure. Orwell made me feel much worse.” She closed her eyes as the awful memories swept over her.
Anthony’s muscles grew even more rigid. “What did the blackguard do?”
“He kissed me. For the first time. Then he made promises of the lavish lifestyle I would live, and how he would provide for me. It took a few minutes to dawn on me that he wanted to establish me as his mistress. I was no longer suitable for marriage. I was soiled goods and could only be his mistress. I said no.”
“And he didn’t take kindly to your rejection.” Anthony’s arms tightened around her.